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ORIGIN - Chapter Twenty-four
The first foreigner from Europe to visit Umuoku was a missionary from England. His name was Peter Stonefield. He was one of the few men filled with revivalism who had decided to go on a solo mission in spreading the gospel of Christ to villages that had not yet been blessed with the message of Christ.
Peter gazed at the shrine of Umuoku. The home where the devil conveyed his message to his followers. He formed a quick saliva and spat on the ground. In his mind, he wished he could light a fire and get rid of the heretic symbol in front of him. As he eyed the shrine in front of him, he kept telling himself to be patient in order to avoid getting himself involved in a mistake that he would later regret.
A year ago, he had made a firm decision to leave his comfort, sworn an oath of celibacy and venture into the darkness of Africa to spread the goodwill message of christ. The message of love and peace and hope for a better life after earth. His zeal had led hi
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Shading Black ORIGIN - Chapter Twenty-five
The high-pitched sound of the town crier's metal stick striking the surface of the hard, rusty gong woke Ibekwe. The morning was still early, and the dew was just beginning to wet the plants and grasses that laid uncovered in their compound. Another sound from the gong, and he drew closer to the window where he saw the stoutly built town crier, beating the metal piece harmoniously. The town crier was announcing a wrestling contest that was to be held in the evening.It was almost a month now that Peter Stonefield’s body was burnt in the outskirts of Umuoku and his companion, Ada, disgraced in front of the whole village before being chased away by a pack of warriors.Ibekwe could have sworn that he had never felt anything as genuine as the gentle Igbo words that Peter used to express God’s love towards his sinful soul. A young boy damned for eternity under the torment of a cursed devil could be saved by the simple acce
Shading Black ORIGIN - Chapter Twenty-six
The elders took their positions in front of the crowd as they waited for the wrestlers to arrive. The first match of the day was between two young men who were in their mid-twenties. The men came out separately, in their own war-like style. They hit their chests with rigid bare hands and danced to the wrestling drums before clutching hands together to indicate a fair game.The first match started with a whistle, and the wrestlers locked hands immediately. They held each other firmly in the shoulders, circling and moving their muscles to the fast beats coming from the drum. They pushed and pulled for a long time until the whistle was blown again, signalling a draw match.The wrestlers went away. New palm fronds were brought to replace the old ones. The next wrestling match was among teenagers, and the favourite teen wrestler was Akagi, a seventeen-year-old bastard who had never been thrown on the ground. He held the title of best teenage wrestler in
Shading Black ORIGIN - Chapter Twenty-seven
Ofu’s old legs rocketed in platonic propulsion as he chatted with Ihuoma about their hazy past. Slowly, the wrapper tied around Ihuoma’s waist flared out, and she tightened it as she saw Nwaka, Ezinne, and Ibekwe approaching.Nwaka greeted his parents, so did Ezinne and Ibekwe. He always liked being the first to share good news with his old father, especially when it involved the triumph of his son.“Father, your grandson just won a wrestling match,” Nwaka said.Nwaka’s voice was soft and cajoling. He reached towards Ofu and jerked his shoulders softly as if that would quicken the impact of his words.“The gods be praised,” Ofu declared. “I know Ibekwe is a good wrestler even though he has avoided the sport. That is why our people say that what an old man can see sitting down, a young man cannot see even if he climbs the tallest Iroko tree. He has
Shading Black ORIGIN - Chapter Twenty-eight
The proxy voice of a man instructing a woman to touch Ibekwe drained him out of his sleep. He stared at the two people in front of him and quickly identified them as his parents.“Mother! Father! What are you doing here?” he asked.Ezinne was silent. She wailed and shrieked before she finally found comfort in the arms of Nwaka.“Father! What is wrong?”Ibekwe fought against his weakness and stood up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.“Ibekwe!” Nwaka called, turning and bending his eyes to look at Ezinneh who was hugging him tightly and crying. “The evil spirits have struck.”“What happened, father? Where is grandfather and grandmother?”Nwaka lifted his eyes and grappled the resistance that was growing within him.“Ibekwe, you have to be a man.”“Why are you saying all these things?”
Shading Black ORIGIN - Chapter Twenty-nine
The third yearly sacrifice since the death of Ibekwe’s grandparents created a feeling in Ibekwe that made him attempt to erase every memory of his grandparents he had left in him. It was one of those rare times of the year when Umuoku parents flocked around the shrine of Igweka-ala. They carried precious gifts in their hands, and knelt in front of a clay statue close to the shrine before kissing the statue with their gentle lips to honour Igweka-ala, the most prominent god of their village and the rest of the villages.Ibekwe hated the part of the sacrifice where the worshippers of Igweka-ala showered praises at the entrance of the shrine to cleanse themselves from their sins. He felt it was like worshipping the carver of the statue and not Igweka-ala. So when his parents arrived at the shrine of Igweka-ala, he did not follow his parents to bow down and kiss the shrine, he just stood by their side.The chief priest of Umuoku came out when he sighted
Shading Black ORIGIN - Chapter Thirty
Ofoedu visited Nwaka’s hut with two elders the following morning. They searched his compound for a while, and looked in the barns, scattered pots, and the firewood for the kitchen before they returned to the entrance of the hut.“Did the gods grant life to the owners of this hut?” Ofoedu asked. It was his form of announcing his presence.There was no reply.The two elders bent down at the eaves of the thatched hut that stuck out. They entered the threshold, and one of the elders whined. He was too impatient to wait like Ofoedu. The elder knocked at the door, and Nwaka came out. The greetings were brief, and the elders went straight to the point after a few proverbs were said succinctly.“Where is your son?” Ofoedu asked.“He is inside,” Nwaka replied.“We must see him.”“The morn
Shading Black ORIGIN - Chapter Thirty-one
The sound of the town crier’s gong rung in Ibekwe’s ears as he stood at the shrine of Igweka-ala. Once or twice, he had seen an elder come out from the shrine, stare at him for a while before spitting on the ground with insolence. The more the elders spat on the ground, the more he feared his fate. With the faint images still in his head and with the broken pot he had destroyed, he knew he would not come out from his situation and remain the same. If only he had not broken the pot and saw its contents. A pot that was like every normal pot in the village, but was believed to have the ability to foretell the future. He cursed as he remembered the broken crucifix in his room, just lying dead. Slowly, he spat on the ground as he saw the town crier approaching.“The elders and the chief priest of Umuoku summons you all to the village market square,” the town crier said and struck his gong.After the town crier had passed the shrine, the
Shading Black EXILE - Chapter Thirty-two
He jerked as the sun shone brightly in the sky as if setting itself ablaze. Shading his eyes from the hot sun with two hands thrust forward, he felt the pain of a tight grip on his neck, squeezing his nape. It was a rope. He shifted his body and worked with his hands, loosening the rope that was strongly tied around his neck. After much struggle, the rope finally let loose, allowing fresh air to pass through his wind pipe. He gasped.Dragging himself to a crouching position and pulling himself persistently, he moved slowly with the help of his bloodstained hands towards a mango tree nearby. He stumbled on a stone as he moved a few strides, crashing his head on pebbles lying aimlessly on the sand. Drops of fresh blood poured out from the wounded spot and a white flesh appeared. He groaned and trudged, clinging to his forehead and wheezing loudly and slowly. He tried to cry for help but his vocal organs failed him and only a breath of hot air came out from his mou
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